Fourteen Years and Forever
by Scribbleness
Summary: Squall is a general of Esthar,where the heart of the world rests. Larsa is a young prince of the bitter kingdom of Archadia. Hope is the bearer of a dreaded destiny,something he never wanted. And this story is about the fight for power, victory, and hope.
1. The Birth of Hope

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Final Fantasy, nor any part of the series. Everything in this story that is not mine does not belong to me.

**Author's Note**: Hi there! This is another crossover fic that I made.

EDIT: Though I initially decided to place this under Final Fantasy XIII category, for the reason that the main theme of the story is from the game Final Fantasy XIII itself, I figured that it doesn't fully belong there... because the other major characters are from other Final Fantasies... you'll know soon enough. =)

And, I would like to thank my friend _MonMonCandie_ for helping me out with the dreadful process of coming up with a summary. Thank you so much! =3 Read her stories, I tell you!

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"Remember, Hope is a good thing,

maybe the best of things,

and no good thing ever dies."

-Stephen King

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A heavy downpour of rain accompanied by angry strikes of thunder were disturbing the city of Palumpolum.

Every household kept their windows sealed shut and their doors securely locked, letting no one else into their comfortable and warm homes. Even when numerous people were outdoors, helplessly looking for shelter or any shade of some sort that would temporarily protect them from the rain, at least until it mellowed down. But most of these shades were fully occupied, not welcoming anymore who desperately needed one. Cars were slowly disappearing one by one, and taxis, stopped accepting passengers as they too wished to quickly avoid the rain that might grow into a storm. Trains on the other hand had stopped running because it was already quite late in the night. And whether the people needed the train or not was none of the train people's concern, for as long as they close at the designated time.

A lone person on the streets would truly be unfortunate, left with only two choices to reach home; walk or run under the rain.

And that was a normal rainy night in Palumpolum city... a city where indifference seems to be a normal thing, and selfishness was almost forgivable. In this city, to be able to survive, you should remember to depend on one person and one person only; yourself.

Along the almost empty streets of the city were two cloaked figures, running at the opposite direction from the flow of the rest of the people. The taller one would stop once in a while, extending an arm to protectively to halt the other, when a car passed by or when a disturbance was needed to be avoided. Sometimes, they stop to check the signs, seeing to it that they were going at the right way. The other one didn't have free hands and was cradling something or someone safely in the arms, shielding it carefully from the harsh weather.

Finally, they stopped. The taller one turned to the other and pointed a decently tall tree with enough leaves to shelter them from the rain. The shorter one nodded and together, they ran beneath it.

The moment they reached the tree, the taller figure remained standing and turned to look at their surroundings, making sure they were not too obvious amidst the dark night. While the other sat down and pulled whatever was cradled protectively closer.

The taller one pulled the hood down, revealing a fierce-looking young woman, who could be often mistaken as someone from the outskirts of the wilderness. Her hair was black and wavy, letting only a few strands of locks to fall over her forehead. She had the most piercing brown eyes, with her brows arched downwards, almost furrowed. Her complexion was fair, making her only slightly distinguishable from her black cloak.

She turned to the shorter one to check if her companion was alright. She then clasped her hands, rubbed them together and lifted them closer to her mouth before blowing her warm breath between them. It was, after all, a cold night.

"How's the little blob doing?" she asked.

The other one, pulled the hood down as well, showing herself to be a girl, younger than the one standing. She was identifiable through her curly, pinkish-red hair, tied in pigtails. Her friendly eyes were of green color, and her skin was paler. She was alot more noticeable, and if someone was to walk by the tree they chose to stay under, the passerby would look at her first, probably not even noticing that she had someone with her.

She wore a beam as she looked up to the black-haired one. "He's doing fine." she assured. "A bit cold though..."

"Hmm..." the taller one said.

"Maybe a little warmth would do." the younger one cheerfully said as an orange gleam of light suddenly appeared around her arms, dimming up her young face and providing comforting warmth around the baby.

"Vanille!" the other one called panickly, while the other looked up abruptly. "Be careful! Someone might see you!"

Vanille merely smiled at her and turned back to the baby in her arms. "I know, I know. Sorceress are not allowed in this city. Relax Fang, it's not too obvious. I can tell. Besides, I can hardly see any people around here that might see us."

Fang's eyes narrowed as she watched Vanille provided the baby some comfort while she hummed a lullaby. The warm light emitting from the two made her shiver even more, as she was reminded of the cold climate they caught themselves into. Of course, even if they were clothed with thick cloaks, the droplets of the rain still seeped unto their bare skin, and did not prove to be a good protection against the weather.

She looked around, once again, to make sure they were free from any eyes of the city's residents. Then, she sighed and finally casted a fire spell of her own and produced a harmless small ball of fire between her palms. She sat down and heartily took in a breath as her face relaxed. Finally she felt warmth.

"Hey Fang," Vanille called after she cut off from her lullaby. "Do you have an idea where we are now?"

"We're near the boundary of Palumpolum. We cross over that boundary, and we'll be in Archadia."

"So Archadia's close now, huh." Vanille said, with a sad tone in her voice. "It will be over soon."

Fang turned to her partner. "Yeah..." she nodded.

"Do we still have time? the Queen's labor might already be over." Vanille said despondently.

"Nah, we have plenty of time. The Queen is still far from delivering her little prince, we'll make it in time. We just have to switch the babies, that's our next problem. We do that with no troubles, copy the hair color of the baby Prince with this one and our mission is accomplished."

"But, you do know what it means, right?" Vanille turned to Fang her brows creased upwards. "You do know that if we hand him over to the king, he'll be made a prince. And he will be groomed for power! And... and..."

Fang sighed loudly. "I know, Vanille. I know..."

There was a pause. Fang knew exactly the full purpose of their mission, a mission everyone of their kind was bound to do. Fulfilling it would grant them freedom. But defiance and failures would earn them a dreadful price; a price nobody wanted to suffer.

Fang turned to Vanille and scooted closer to her. "May I see him?"

Vanille lifted the baby in her arms and carried him closer to Fang. The older one gently pulled the cloth from Vanille's cloak that covered the baby, revealing a healthy looking baby, wrapped in white cloth, with a noticeable silver hair, especially made to adopt the hair color of the latest member of the Archadian royalties. His eyes were closed, so were his palms that ached to grasp anything. Fang reached her index finger out to him, which he gently grabbed with his tiny fingers. Fang smiled at him.

"Such an adorable little guy." she said.

Vanille nodded. "He is."

Fang played with him a little longer until she turned her own finger. The baby turned his wrist in response and that was when Fang and Vanille saw it. On the baby's wrist was a black tattoo-like mark with several straight lines and arrows. Both of them knew only so well what it was, all sorceress do. It was the mark of their master, the Orphan.

"So, he really was made by the Orphan." Vanille whispered sadly.

"Yeah. It's his mark to remind him that he was created to do chores for the brat." Fang said, rather sarcastically.

"But, maybe there's still hope! Maybe he will not choose to do what he is supposed to do! Maybe he won't be what the Orphan said he will be!" said Vanille.

Fang shook her head. "The Orphan said it is written. It is his destiny. Nobody knows how this kid will do it, but the Orphan. And if the Orphan said it's going to happen, then I better bet my life that it will happen. That's probably why we're here, to make things happen. Or else... well, you already know what will happen if we don't."

"I know, but..." Vanille turned back to the baby and covered him again with her cloak's cloth. "But, wouldn't you exchange your freedom for the world? For everyone else? You would, right?"

"Of course I would!" Fang replied, almost yelling. "But I can't, and we both know _we _can't!"

She huffed, as Vanille watched her sympathetically from her side. Finally, Fang rested her back against the tree trunk defeatedly. "I just wish... that I can do something about this. We never wanted this. I don't want us to be responsible for what will happen. But what can I do? We're practically chained on this, and we never really have a choice!"

"Hello?" a boy's awkward voice called.

Fang and Vanille froze as they both turned to the source of the voice at the same time. They could barely make out who it was, but they could tell, from the little fire they had as their source of light that it was a little boy, who was obviously and horribly soaked from the rain.

The boy glanced at their fire then turned his eyes back to them.

"What are you up to now?" Another voice yelled from his back, whose voice sounded much like his. "Hurry up! I want to go home!"

"Hold on, will you? I gotta help them, they seem cold." He called back at his companion before smiling at the two. Then, much to the sorceress' amazement, he began to remove what seemed to be his jacket from himself.

"Here, take my jacket. This is the only one I have but, I'm sure Matron back at the orphanage will make me a new one." He reached the jacket to the two. "Here. Go on and take it." He offered encouragingly.

Fang and Vanille only stared at the small piece of clothing he was so generously giving them. They then took a closer look on him, realizing that he was such a young boy, probably around seven years old. His face looked hard, contrasting his gentle expression. His eyes were blue, and his hair was flat, messy, and blonde.

The boy was still holding out his jacket, waiting for the two to get it. But after another moment passed and nothing happened, he rubbed the back of his neck shyly with his free hand. Then, he spoke again. "I'm Snow by the way. And that's my brother Seifer." He swung his tumb to the person behind him, who was also equally soaked. His brother, they could tell, looked exactly like him, only shorter and thinner. Even the clothes they wore were almost the same. Though Seifer looked more snobbish and impatient, and he had his back facing them the whole time, waiting for his brother Snow to finish whatever he bothered doing.

"Well then," Vanille hopped happily from her spot, as Fang watched her confusingly. "I'm Vanille, and this is Fang. But we don't need your jacket. However..." She turned and gazed again on the baby. "he does."

The boy Snow lowered his jacket to his side as he tried to take a peek of the baby. Vanille looked back at him. "He needs a nice home too. And nice people to take care of him."

"So..." Snow hesitantly stepped closer to Vanille. "what can I do-"

"Here!" Vanille handed the baby to the boy. Snow instinctively took the baby, surprised.

Fang began to stand up. "Vanille, what are you do-"

"Hold him for a while, okay? I need to fix something inside my coat. Something's been itching me since we got here, but I never got to scratch it because my hands were ful- Hey! The moon is frozen!"

"Where?" Snow, with the baby in his arms, turned around to see the frozen moon Vanille was pointing at. But dark clouds and blackness were all he could see.

"What is it?" Seifer, who heard his brother's yelp, finally turned to Snow.

"The girl said the moon was frozen!" Snow replied.

"Really? Where? I don't see no frozen moon!" Seifer said.

"Hey!" Snow turned to Vanille. "There is no frozen moo-"

They were gone.

Snow looked at their spot. And looked again.

But there was no Vanille, nor Fang.

"Where did they go?" Snow asked no one.

"Snow, you idiot! I want to go home NOW." Seifer said viciously. He really wanted to go home so badly, and his patience was running short.

"Okay..." Snow replied before checking the spot one last time where Fang and Vanille disappeared. He turned to Seifer. "But, what about this baby?"

"Ah, let's bring it to Matron and she'll know what to do."

"The baby's a he, not an it."

"C'mon, let's go now!"

Seifer began to ran forward, and Snow soon followed. Then, he remembered something. He looked at the baby he was carrying as he slowly lifted up his jacket. Carefully, he wrapped the infant with it, covered him in his arms and fought against the rain as he ran towards the orphanage.

* * *

The orphanage was nothing too grandeur, much like all other orphanages in the rest of the world. However, the one where Snow and Seifer belong to was a bit simpler, much smaller and more isolated from the rest of the city of Palumpolum. It was located closer to the forest side of the city, peacefully resting there as it provided a cosiderable space for the children to play and do whatever they had and wanted to do. Despite its simplicity, the orphanage is the most welcoming place in the city, with its soft light emitting from its small windows, full of still awake children.

Snow and Seifer, who finally reached their home, ran to the door and almost barged into it rashly. Finally, they were safe from the rain.

"We're home!" Seifer and Snow called in unison.

"Matron!" a little girl with short, light brown hair with ends waved at all directions, yelled while pointing at the two. "Snow and Seifer are here!"

"Really?" a female voice called from another room. A woman with gentle features and long black hair appeared from the door wearing an stained apron, and a worried look on her face that soon turned into relief. "Oh, thank goodness, you two..." She exhaled. She ran to the two boys. "Where have you been? Look at you. You're soaking wet!"

"Well, Snow here had to visit one of those tunnels again." Seifer replied. "And we got lost and didn't know where to go. We even thought we had to spend the night over there, but luckily I was smarter than him and found our way out..."

But Matron was not listening anymore. Her eyes were fixed at the baby in Snow's arms. "Selphie," she called at the little girl. "would you be a dear and get three towels from the linen room?"

"Okay!" replied the girl, and soon, she ran to the stairs.

"Give him to me." Matron told Snow gently as she reached for the baby in the boy's jacket, whom Snow willingly gave her. The baby made a chain of muffled sobs, which they knew would turn into cries. But before it happened, Matron hushed him mildly as she slowly swayed the baby in her arms.

Shortly after, Selphie finally arrived with three towels in her hands. She handed the two to Seifer and Snow, and handed the other one to Matron. Matron gently took off Snow's jacket from the baby and replaced it with the thick, soft towel.

"You two, go take a shower before you catch colds." The Matron told the brothers.

"But, what about him?" Snow asked, referring to the baby.

Matron looked at him, smiling. "Don't worry sweetie. I've taken care alot of babies, I got him."

Snow finally nodded as he and his brother ran towards the bathroom.

Matron, then proceeded to her own bathroom, filled a basin with warm water, while the baby was still in her arms. She unwrapped the baby from the towel and gently placed him on the basin.

Matron giggled at the sight of the little infant, naked and soaked in the water. "Aren't you such a beauty?"

Shortly after that, she saw something black on the baby's wrist. She squinted and took a closer look at it.

"Hmm..." she hummed. "What could this be?"

Gently, she rubbed it, trying to take it off the baby's skin. But to now avail. Was it a birthmark? But she was sure no such birthmarks were so detailed like a tattoo. Maybe he belonged to another clan who marked their babies with tattoos? She heard some who did initiations with their babies right after they were born, but never did they engrave complicated tattoos on their wrists.

Finally, she chose to ignore it. Maybe it would grow out of him when he gets older. Hopefully it would disappear because, who would take him in? The silver hair was not a problem, of course. Though silver hair in Palumpolum was a bit rare, she knew a lot of silver heads in her life. But the tattoo bothered her, and it would bother a lot of childless parents as well. Especially in the city of Palumpolum where normal should be normal and strangeness was not tolerated.

"You poor thing..." She whispered as she rubbed some gentle soap on the baby's body that turned into lather. "It's okay. We'll take care of you here."

* * *

After the warm showers and changing clothes were done, Matron cradled the now fresh baby in her arms as she sat on the couch, while Snow watched her feed the baby with bottled milk. Seifer, as usual, was sitting beside Snow.

"So, Snow," Matron started. "How did you boys find him?"

"Well, we were running back here when I saw these two girls." He said. "They were under a tree, and they were wet too. They looked cold so I was trying to give them my jacket, but they gave me that baby. They said he needed a nice family and a nice home."

"I'm sure he has a nice home now, but I'm not sure about the family part." replied Matron.

"He looks like a cute guy, who wouldn't want to adopt him?" Seifer asked.

Matron sighed. "I don't know..." she said. "This baby has a tattoo on his wrist, and they might not take him in because of it."

"Wow, really?" Snow exclaimed.

"Lemme see!" Seifer demanded.

"Easy, easy boys." Matron said gently. "I'll show you tomorrow when he wakes up. But keep your voices down for tonight, okay? He's trying to sleep."

Then there was a pause. And that was because the boys were just too quick to loyally obey Matron's orders, and Matron was still pondering on what would happen to the baby. Sure, she was willing to take him in under her wing, but having a complete family was still different, and was still alot better than staying forever in the orphanage. After all, she was getting old, too old for a baby. And she didn't know for how long would she be able to take care of him.

Finally, Snow broke the silence. "So, what are you gonna name him?"

Matron turned to him with a questioning expression. "Well, I was thinking..."

"Masamune." Seifer suggested. "You know, like that long silver sword in fairy tales. Suits his hair well."

"Nah, that doesn't sound like a baby." Snow retorted. "And you'd make him look like a bad guy."

"No I don't, and I think it's a cool name." Seifer shot back.

"I was thinking, Whitey could be good too." Snow said.

"Wow, very creative Snow. You made him sound like a dog." Seifer sarcatically replied.

Snow glared at him.

"Well," Matron said a bit louder, cutting the boys from their fight. "I was thinking, a good name could be Hope."

Seifer acted disgusted, while Snow nodded in awe.

"Why Hope?" Seifer asked.

"Because he has silver hair, almost white." she said. "It told me that he is pure, and is off for a fresh start." she brushed the thick, silver locks of the infant. Then, she glanced at the tattoo on his wrist, which made him different from the rest of people she met. And she believed, deeply in her being, that a slight difference in the world could tap the existing system, and make a even bigger difference... for everyone.

"It's like, he's ready, for this world..." she added.

Snow smiled at her. "Okay then." he said. He stood up and walked to Matron's side. He sat at the armrest of the couch and gazed at the baby. "Hi there Hope. I promise I'll take care of you, no matter what."

Seifer rolled his eyes and stood up, following Snow. He too looked at the baby, and slowly, his face softened as well. He looked up at Snow, who was still gazing at the baby, and looked back at Hope. "Ah, okay, okay. I'll take care of you too."

* * *

Fang and Vanille were overseeing the orphanage from a high hill under their black cloaks. How they got there, only another sorceress would know. They watched as the two boys ran into the orphanage, and how the shadows moved from there. A woman, whom they took as the supervisor of the place, took the baby in her arms, bathed him, fed him, and cradled him to sleep. The two sorceress were relieved to see that the boy was finally in good hands.

"Gotta admit, you got lucky on this one, Vanille." Fang commented, nodding at the orphanage.

"Not really." Vanille said. "At least I don't consider it sheer luck. I already knew that Snow has a good heart. And when he told me he came from an orphanage, it just made it even better."

"Heh." Fang scoffed. "Smart girl, you are."

Vanille giggled. "Just made a good choice for the baby, that's all."

"Hmm..." Fang hummed. "What's gonna happen to us now? We'll most likely suffer the consequence for what we just did." she relaxly added.

"I think," Vanille said, lifting her index finger to her lips as she tilted her head to a side. "that if it really is destiny, then it is bound to happen, then we're practically out of trouble because it will be his fate and he can't do anything about it!"

Fang shook her head. "But we'll still be punished, for defying the orders of the Orphan. It's our job to make sure the boy will do what he's meant to do!" she folded her arms against her chest.

"And that's our choice, to defy the orders." Vanille replied, turning to Fang. "And as far as choices are concerned, we simply did ours, because that's what we believed in. And that's what we wanted for the world." she looked back at the orphanage. "This is as much as we could do. The rest is up to him."

"I guess so." Fang replied, finally relaxing. "I hope he just makes the right choices himself, and make it all worth it for both of us."

"I hope so too." Vanille nodded, looking at the orphanage longingly where the little Hope was sleeping. "And I won't lose that hope in him."

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**A/N**: Thank you for reading! =D


	2. Fourteen Years to Present

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Final Fantasy, nor anything from the series. Anything that is obviously not mine is not mine.

**Author's Note**: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLOUD!

* * *

**14 years later…**

A whistle was about to be blown.

"The ball, Hope!" cried a boy with shoulder length brown hair, all waved to its ends. From a distance, he was running along the ball's direction, watching as his friend rolled the ball with his feet."The ball!"

A boy with short, spiky silver hair was seen running from a considerable distance, his shy green eyes avidly concentrated to a white ball with blue designs. He was nearing the goal, which was a huge net, blocked by another boy from the other team.

He was almost there. One more point was all he needed to break the tied score his team shared with the opposing one.

Then, he felt a force coming from his side that pushed him away from his tracks and unto the grassy ground. The impact was so strong that he didn't realize his face was slumped on the soil, and the weight of whoever pushed him was fully resting on his back.

A whistle was blown briefly. "FOUL!" the referee said.

"Time out!" Another called from the benches of the empty stadium where the game was being held.

"You!" The brown haired boy from before yelled at the other who was lying on top of his friend. "Get off him!" He pushed him aside, angry with the fact that he considered Hope a bit too insignificant to even consider if he was still breathing or not.

"Hope!" he called, as he kneeled beside the silver haired player. "Hope, you okay?"

"Argh…" Hope only groaned in response. The other boy flipped him over, revealing Hope's mudded face and bruised nose.

"Oh man, is your nose broken?"

"I'm fine Larsa." Hope chuckled at his friend. "So is my nose… I think."

"You think." Larsa repeated as he stood himself up and reached out his hand to help Hope. "That gave a lot of assurance, didn't it."

"Well," Hope said while he pulled himself up with Larsa's hand. "as long as it's not numb and bleeding, it's in perfect condition. But, thank you for asking anyway."

"You're welcome but," Larsa feigned hurt while shaking his arms that aided Hope's ascension from the ground. "man, you're heavy."

Hope raised his fists and bumped them to each other playfully in front of Larsa. "I'll punch your face."

"Hope!" their instructor with a tall, orange hair called while running to the pair's direction. "You're okay, ya?" he asked as soon as he reached Hope.

"Yeah." Hope replied. "I'm good. No damage done, really."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you like that." Their classmate, with short, light brown hair, the same one who pushed him down said. "I was just aiming for the ball, and I didn't intend on hitting you."

"Yeah, like you didn't." Larsa sourly snapped. "You hit him like that in the broad daylight to stop him from reaching the goal and almost broke his nose."

"If Arc said he didn't mean it, then he didn't." A taller boy with blond spikes all waved to his face retorted sharply. "Don't get a full of yourself and think your assumptions are always right."

Larsa gave him a deep frown.

"Boys, boys…" The instructor said. "Calm down, ya? It was not Arc's fault, but he'll be more careful next time, ya?"

"Yeah, Larsa, so it's okay." Hope told his worried friend. "And I'm okay Arc, no worries."

"It's your friend who's just trying to overreact." The blond said.

"Let's see if you don't overreact to this!" Larsa threw a punch on the blond's face, who stumbled backwards. The boy was about to fight back when Arc held him up with his arms while calling out his name "Ingus! Ingus, stop!"

Hope did the same with Larsa. "Larsa, that's enough!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" The instructor stepped in between of the two parties and extended his arms to halt them from reaching each other. "Stop it! This is nothing but a small problem, ya? It's just a game, no need to fight about it."

Larsa and Ingus finally stopped, with the blond one pulling himself out from his friend's grasp before walking away. Hope gently released Larsa, who then breathed heavily on his spot. "Sorry." he managed to whisper, before turning around and leaving the scene.

Hope glanced at their instructor briefly. And without waiting for the instructor's unwritten approval, he followed Larsa.

* * *

The principal's office was quite a peaceful place, probably the most quiet in the whole academy. The only sound that could be heard in the room was the endless ticking from the clock, and the necessary sounds the occupant of the room was making such as the rustling of papers and scribbling of pen. But that afternoon, a not-so-new one was added, and that was the deep, disappointed breaths the principal himself was making with matching clicking of his tongue.

He was a man in his fifties, with a bulky built and a balding head. He was wearing his thick spectacles which were moving with his forehead as his fingers massaged it. His small eyes were closed, his brows meeting, as his face was directed to two nervous boys who were involved in the incident at the stadium.

He sighed one last time before looking up to the two students. "Mr. Solidor, I believe this is the fifth time you caught yourself in trouble this school year."

Larsa didn't respond and bitterly looked away.

"The first time was fine. I always give first times away. The second time, I gave you a warning, but I still forgave you. The third time, I just had to keep in mind that you're a prince, and I'm simply too old to deal with your royal family. The fourth time, I still had to forgive you because the princess, your sister, asked me to. But now…" He shook his head. "now, I just don't know what to do with you anymore."

"Uh," Hope muttered dumbly. "excuse me, sir, if I may speak."

The principal raised his brows and looked at him.

"It… well… it wasn't Larsa's fault." He stammered, while Larsa quickly turned to him. "I wasn't being careful, and I probably looked as if I made a great deal about my bruised nose. And I made him worry too much. So… I'm the one who's supposed to be sorry."

The principal gently placed his hands on his desk while intently listening to Hope.

"It was also my responsibility, as his friend, to stop him from getting into any troubles. I should've sensed the tension between him and Ingus when that happened, and I should've told him to stop when I had the chance to before the fight started."

"But he should also have self-control and sense of responsibility." The principal replied. "He should know how to handle himself well."

"I know, sir, but," Hope was almost pleading for his superior to understand him. "he was just trying to help me out, and naturally became worried when I got hurt. Because I'm his friend, and I'm part of his responsibility too… as he is to me. If I were in his place, when that happened, I would've done exactly the same thing."

The principal took his time to absorb everything Hope said, evaluated it all in his mind, and reconsidered. He shook his head. "I can't believe this but," He stood up. "I'm letting you off the hook again, Mr. Solidor. And this is all thanks to your luck for having Mr. Villiers as your friend, and for being here to finally defend you."

Hope finally smiled in relief, while Larsa only looked blankly at the principal.

"But I hope you didn't like the part when your friend is here with you inside my office this time." He added, pointing his velvet pen to Larsa and Hope to emphasize his point. "I hope your conscience has enough heart not to let this happen again, for your good friend's sake."

"Will do, sir." Both replied in unison.

"Mmm." The elder one nodded. "You two may go."

* * *

"Man, that was close." Hope exhaled in relief as he walked along the campus pathway from the principal's office, with his hands at the back of his neck, and his head leaning backwards relaxingly. "It was my first time in the principal's office, and I honestly thought we were going to die inside. But it wasn't that bad in the end, huh. Principal Cid is not that scary after all."

Larsa didn't respond, his sullen gray eyes downcast as he followed Hope closely behind. But his friend was sensitive, and he felt the heavy mood of the poor prince.

Hope halted on his feet and turned around, facing Larsa from his considerably distant spot and smiled encouragingly. "C'mon Larsa, you should be happy about this. I mean, it was your fifth visit to Sir Cid, and your record is still spotless! Be glad that it all turned out okay in the end again, right?"

"I'm sorry Hope." Larsa muttered quietly in a near whisper.

The silver haired one was slightly taken aback by the sudden apology. "Sorry? For what?"

Larsa finally looked up to his friend. "I'm sorry for letting you get into trouble with me. I... I should've seen you being involved in this and stopped myself from attacking Ingus. Now I realized I punched him for something so shallow... and stupid."

"Hey, don't be like that now." Hope walked closer to Larsa and slump a firm arm around the prince's shoulder. "I understand why you did it, and I tell you, it's okay. Besides, I did say that I'd probably do the same thing if I were you, remember?" Larsa turned to Hope, who smiled at him before stepping away again. "Don't worry about it, ya?" He imitated their physical fitness instructor.

Larsa laughed, and so did Hope. He was glad that his friend laughed again after a long tensed afternoon.

As they were on their way to their classroom for their next class, Larsa suddenly placed a hand on Hope's shoulder and shook it lightly. "Hope."

Hope turned to him. "Yeah?"

Larsa gave him a smile. "Thanks. For always cleaning up my own mess. Thanks alot buddy."

Hope smiled back to him. "It's because I know you'll clean up mine as well."

Larsa chuckled. "Yeah. In your dreams."

"Hey! Unfair!"

"So is."

"Bah. I'll forgive you for that because we share the same birthday."

"Haha! Yeah, yeah whatever for your randomness. In any case, we're here."

A few steps after, they reached their classroom where everyone was not-so-quietly copying notes written by a female instructor on the blackboard. Hope suddenly pursed his lips before walking in, as a prompt for himself to stop talking, while Larsa, still with a smile on his face, quietly and almost gracefully entered the room.

"Good afternoon Ms. Heartilly." The two boys greeted in chorus.

Ms. Heartily, a petite woman of twenty, paused from what she was doing and turned around. She pushed her long, ebony hair from her face to have a better look at the latecomers in her class. She didn't get mad though, that was out of her personality. She never gets mad of her students. Instead, she smiled at them cheerfully with her gentle brown eyes, actually happy that they finally made it to her class. She heard of what happened, and she was hoping, as she had her class, for them to leave the office without any trouble.

"Good afternoon to you too." She greeted back. She had been meaning to ask them how did the talk with the principal go, but she chose not to discuss it with them in front of the whole class. They did not need to know that the prince of Archadia was in trouble again, and with his best friend this time. They didn't know anything about it anyway, and it was good that it stayed like that. "Uhm," she mumbled as she glanced at the blackboard, then back to them. "You're meant to copy this." She pointed her white chalk to the wordy, scribbled notes on the green board. "I know it's long, but take your time. There's really no rush. I'm almost done too."

"Thank you Ms. Heartilly." The two boys replied.

"And Hope," The young teacher walked away from her board, placed her chalk on the teacher's table, and approached Hope. She stared at Hope's bruised nose with pure concern. "did you already see Nurse Rosa for your nose?"

"Uh..." Hope replied dumbly. "Err... not yet, Ma'am."

The instructor frowned disapprovingly, curving her lips to the right. Some of the students began turning to him, curious about his nose.

"But it doesn't hurt!" He informed her, partly hoping the staring would stop. "Really, there's nothing to worry about..."

Before he could say more, Ms. Heartilly held out her palm, and a round, ice crystal quickly formed on top of it. She reached her pocket and took out her light blue handkerchief before wrapping it around the ice. Gently and carefully, she placed it on Hope's nosebridge. "Hold it there." She told Hope, who quickly followed and held the ice on place.

"Class, Hope and I are going to the infirmary real quick, okay?" She announced to the class. Hope quickly stood up and gave Larsa a surprised glance, who only shrugged at him.

"It's okay. I'll let you borrow my notes." He assured the injured one.

"Come Hope." Ms. Heartilly said in a caring tone, and soon after, the two of them stepped out of the classroom.

Ms. Heartilly was such a dear. She always has been. She had been the favourite instructor of the two... of everyone actually. After all, who wouldn't love an instructor like that?

* * *

The day came by swiftly, and the bruise on Hope's nose disappeared as soon as it came with only a flick of the school's nurse's finger. Only a few hours after Ms. Heartilly's class, the bell for dismissal finally rang, and all the students in the Academy were rushing out of the school's gate and on their way home.

Hope and Larsa came out together, as usual, and walked up to the school's main gate where Larsa's car with his royal entourage were waiting.

"Bye Larsa." Hope waved at his friend.

"Bye Hope. See you tomorrow." Larsa replied before walking to his car.

"Yeah, see you." Hope turned around and began walking on the sidewalk of Palumpolum.

His home was not far, and his routine walk from his school reaching home was never longer than twenty minutes. Though his house was far from distinguishably beautiful along their street, it was homey enough for a husband, a wife, and a kid. Like the common shelters in Palumpolum, the one Hope was staying at was a one-story white house, with small windows and a sliding door. As soon as Hope reached the doorstep, he freely entered it and slid his backpack to his hand.

"I'm home!" He called out to the other occupants of the house. He waltzed into the kitchen, where a young woman was chopping vegetables on top of a counter. Her figure was slim, her height was not as tall, and her curly pink hair was all gathered at one side of her shoulder. She was also Hope's adoptive mother.

She turned around and beamed at Hope with her almost sparking blue eyes. "Hey there!" She placed her knife down before running to Hope and threw him a big, welcoming embrace, while showering him with sounding motherly kisses on his cheeks and forehead.

"Hey, Serah, stop!"

Serah giggled as she pulled away. "How many times did I already tell you that you can call me 'Mom'?"

"But," Hope pouted. "it's just so hard to get used to calling you my mom when you're only six years older than I am!"

Serah shrugged. "So?"

"And, and... Snow's almost just as good as my brother!"

"So?" She repeated.

"Wel-I-" Hope stammered. He didn't want to say anything stupid or anything that might hurt her feelings. After all, she also adopted him, she was the one who always posed as his mother, and who had always treated him like her own son. "Ah, alright alright." Hope sighed defeatedly. "Hi, Mom."

Serah giggled again. "Hey there sweetie."

Hope rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

"Are you hungry?" Serah asked as she glided back to the counter. "Dinner will be ready real soon. You can munch on anything in the fridge while waiting if you want."

"Nah, I'll probably wait for dinner." Hope replied. "I'll just be in my room, okay?"

Serah nodded at him. "Okay. Snow's home by the way. He's in the garage, as always."

"Really? Cool, I might do just that." Hope ran out of the kitchen, to the hallway and outside the house. And true enough, he saw his adoptive father, sitting on the floor in front of a huge, blue motorcycle he was repairing, and shirtless, showing out the incredibly big, muscular upper half of his body.

Hope made a disgusted sound and covered his eyes partially with his arm. "Snow! Can't you use a shirt?"

Snow, the same one who took Hope from the two mysterious women when he was a baby, turned to the boy, and his tired expression instantly brightened. "Hehey!" He halloed to Hope and stood up. He had become tall too over the years, about more than twice as tall as Hope was. The younger one always had to jump with a great deal of effort to reach anything from the man's chest up. His once short blond hair had grown a bit longer, which he always styled with a black bandana, and his stubby beard maintained to keep his manly identity, or as how he would always put it.

The father of the house walked to Hope, removed his dirty gloves and messed his silver hair with his big hand. "How's school, little one?"

"Hey! Stop calling me that!" Hope chuckled, as tried to shove off Snow's hand from his head. Snow had been calling him with that title ever since he was born. It was okay at first, of course, but he was growing up, and he barely was little anymore.

"Aww... Why should I? You still are so tiny!" Snow pinched Hope's cheek and shook it lightly.

"Ow!" Hope yelped and rubbed his cheek as soon as Snow pulled away. "I may be tiny by your standard, you big bear." Hope retorted childishly. "But I'm already grown up, and tall enough for my age."

Snow only chuckled. "Very funny, little one."

Hope ignored the comment and turned to Snow's motorcycle. "Fixing Shiva again?"

"Yeah." Snow replied. "Nothing's wrong about her, really. Just the usual maintenance."

"Now that I think about it," Hope placed a finger on his chin. "I never rode her alone."

Snow laughed. "Then stop thinking about it."

"No, really. It has always been Serah, you, and me. Or you and me."

Snow glanced at Hope. "Well, this is a pretty big bike, you know." He reached out a hand to the motorcycle and smoothed its flawless blue paint. "Maybe when you're old enough; and big enough-"

"Hey!"

"-I'll let you use this bike."

Hope smiled before turned to the bike too. "Cool. Looking forward to that."

"Snow, Hope," Serah called from the entrance of the garage. The two turned to her. "dinner's ready."

"Alright!" Hope yelled excitedly and quickly ran inside the house.

Serah turned to watch Hope, blindingly knowing that her shirtless husband was gazing longingly at her. He walked to her and gently slipped his strong arms around her waist as he pulled her closer to him. Serah smiled before turning back to him and cupped his face with her smooth hands. Snow leaned in closer and closed the gap with a long, light kiss on her lips.

She was the one who pulled away first. "We should go back inside before Hope finds us."

He smiled at her lovingly as he examined her perfect features with his warm, blue eyes. "It's just too bad our son came home early."

Serah lightly punched his torso. "Snow!"

"Okay, okay, sorry!" He replied in a chuckle before planting another kiss on her forehead. Finally, he released her from his embrace, leaving only an arm around her shoulder as they walked their way back into the house.

"So, what are we having for dinner?" he asked.

"You'll see when we get in." She replied. "I'm sure you two will love it."

* * *

The royal car finally reached the state of Archadia, fifteen minutes after it left the Academy. And soon, they arrived at the palace of the Archadian royalties, also a home to its youngest resident, Prince Larsa.

It passed through the gates of the castle and stopped at the entrance with tall, wide velvet doors, welcoming his arrival. Larsa stepped out of his car, and allowed his assistants to carry everything else for him. And formally, more so than he ever was in the Academy, he waltzed further into the palace until he reached a hall with two staircases, one for each side of the area. He took the right one, which was closer to his own room.

Then, he heard a loud thud from a nearby room, a room he very well knew as 'the study'. He paused from his steps and looked at the door.

"This is not just your problem, Vayne! What does it take to shove everything into your empty head just to remind you that every state favours Dalmasca, and one wrong move from any of us-"

"This is not the concern of the state! This is a personal concern between me and that bastard Rassler!"

Larsa stepped closer to the door.

"Then drop whatever problem you have with Rassler!"

"Realize that he's going to marry Ashelia of Rabanastre, and Rabanastre is the only possible ally we have!"

There was a pause.

"And he's going to take it!"

There was another pause.

"We never had allies, ever since father let them all go."

"Father is dead, so forget about him, he's in our past!"

"And this is the present he gave us, brother. We're now a lone empire, a kingdom with no allies against the more powerful Dalmasca."

"So you're going to leave it like that. Here I am, trying to rebuild what this kingdom used to have, and you, older brother, the present emperor of Archadia, is choosing not to do anything about it. Think about where we are right now. We're in total limbo, in utter humiliation of insisted pride that was never there. Think of our family's honour. Think of your peopl-"

"MY PEOPLE HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!"

Larsa had become as close as he could get to the door, when it was suddenly opened so very quickly and slightly. A familiar female figure with long black hair in an elegant dress came out in a fast pace, her crimson eyes on the floor. She closed the door and leaned against it before immediately taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes, obviously relieved that she was finally out of the fight among the brothers. It was evident in her expression that she had been inside the room for a long while, and she was tired of the long-running argument.

She opened her eyes again and turned to her side. There, Larsa stood, staring at her.

Her exasperated face quickly wore a smile. "Oh." She said breathlessly. She then pushed herself from the door and stood in good composure in front of the boy. "Hi baby brother. You're finally home."

Larsa shook his head and ran away from her, away from the door, and away from his brothers. He had been there for just a short while, and he was already tired of it all. It was not the first time it happened, he had been enduring it for years, ever since their father left them.

Never, in everyday of his life, did he hear his brothers talk in perfect harmony.

He reached his room, and slammed the door closed. Quickly, he removed his shoes, and his school jacket before jumping unto his bed, his face down.

Before his death thirteen years ago, his father ruled Archadia rather poorly. He only wished a more peaceful and better future for the state, and he meant well. But in return, he made a bad decision that gravely affected the kingdom; cutting all the ties of Archadia among its alliances, leaving the state lone and defenceless. Partly, it was for peaceful purposes, but partly, it was caused by his pride that Archadia would always do well on its own. But he was wrong. Everyone knew he was.

Either way, he died in the end, of sudden heart attack, and practically left the kingdom in complete shambles; the state economy came crashing down, more enemies emerging from different sides of the world (one of which was Dalmasca, whom the Prince Vayne had personal problems with), and the exports they needed from outside were cut off as well. His eldest son, who was immediately crowned king, never ran out of problems, as he tried to fix the damages his father made out from his mistakes. The once powerful Archadia had become the weakest kingdom of all.

Larsa wanted to sleep, to forget that he was ever an internal part of the kingdom. But how could he? Since he was born, his responsibility for his kingdom had been the top priority... more than himself, more than his people.

To restore the kingdom's honour...

To regain its formal power... and attain even more.

The door slowly creaked open, but Larsa still did not pay attention. Footsteps came nearer, and soon, he felt the pressure of someone sitting on the side of his bed. Then, slim, gentle hands began to stroke his brown hair.

He already knew, so well, who it was.

"Larsa..." A soothing female voice called him. "How was school?"

"Fine." He mumbled against the sheets in reply.

There was a momentary pause.

Then, after sighing, she began again. "I'm sorry, Larsa, that you had to hear them like that."

Larsa tried to ignore it and kept quiet.

"You know our older brother." She continued. "He's still having a hard time with everything. Please just try to understand him."

This time, Larsa rolled to his back and sat up, facing his sister. "That's what you've been telling me for millions of times now, Tifa."

She only looked at him with her sympathetic rose eyes. "I know. But please believe in him. He's getting there."

"That's what you said before too." Larsa folded his legs and wrapped them with his arms. He rested his head tiredly on his limbs.

Tifa opened her mouth, but closed them as soon for she had nothing else better to say.

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know." He said. "Father did badly and left us with this mess. So what then. Start all over, right? We're all alone now, and all we have is each other. So why are they fighting? It doesn't solve anything. We're still enemies with Dalmasca, and the other states didn't change their disliking for us. We're still as Father left us, and they're not helping make it any better."

Larsa turned to look at his older sister, who was still giving him a nurturing stare.

"I swear, if only I'm next in throne, if I become Emperor, none of us would have to deal with something like this." He said, shaking his head. "I'll do everything, in my power, for every state to live in perfect harmony. To eliminate the idea of alliances completely. For everyone to fight, not each other, but to fight for each other, not like what our brothers wanted. I'll take in all the consequences of my action and the problems my people are facing, even if I lose all of my dignity, unlike what Father did. For once, I'll become the first emperor to set my pride aside and do that. And that way, we didn't need to think about supplies, or enemies, or worry about being alone... because we can depend on others to help us. And they too can count on our aid. Just imagine what perfection this world could be..."

Tifa let another moment to pass, as she had it all sink into her. She drew herself closer to her brother and gave him a warm, comforting embrace, which he did not repel to. Everything he said was so ideal, it sounded naive to her. It sounded so simple, but it was her dream, too. And all of it coming from his mouth, said in his voice, it only showed how much he was affected by everything. Was it even possible for a fourteen year old boy to talk like that? To think too much of everyone's welfare? Of a kingdom's welfare? Fourteen year olds should be somewhere else, playing with other fourteen years olds, or exploring new things in this reality. But there he was, in her arms, carrying his own responsibilities as a prince, who was left by his father, the failed emperor, in a worsening crisis with no solution.

"Tell me, Tifa," Larsa said. "what was Mother like?"

Tifa tilted her head and planted a light kiss on his head through his brown locks. "She was wonderful. She was the light of everyday, the only peace we had here. And she was loved by all."

"Was she like you, then?" Larsa asked.

Tifa smiled at it. "Maybe. But I bet I'm not even as close to being like her. But if you want, if you'll allow me to, I can try."


	3. The Bloom

**Disclaimer:** Everything that is not mine, is not mine. Everything that is mine, is mine. 'kay?

**Author's Note:** Ah, peeps. Hello again. Life has gotten in the way for far too long, and a thing called love came along to steal every bit of my attention. Other than that, I don't know how else to explain myself. Though I would like to thank everyone who sent me encouraging words to go on; caelumnoctis23, MonMonCandie, and Niqsta to name a few.

I don't know what lies ahead of my life, and my plans are always unpredictable. I cannot promise you anything, other than the fact that I will finish all of my stories. I don't know how long will it take, and I don't care how many readers I will lose. I will finish them once and for all.

Hearts for everyone. I hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

He felt a small hand pat on his back, followed by a sound of sincere voice.

"Hey."

The little Archadian prince quickly turned to his friend in response, giving him a slight nod and a small smile. "Hey." He acknowledged almost quietly. It was only then he noticed that he had been staring out blankly at the campus lawn from the bench for a considerably long time, until Hope arrived to snap him out of his thoughts.

"I'm not even going to ask why you look down in the dumps right now." Hope sighed as he sat down by Larsa.

"Sorry if I ruined your morning." Larsa said apathetically.

"Not a problem." Hope assured him, patting his back. "So, you want to stay here for a while? Would be good too if we head to our room."

The brunette shook his head. "We can go inside now if you want. I think I spent enough time doing nothing here."

Hope shrugged. "Anything's fine. We can stay here for a longer while. Seems like you need it anyway."

And they left a momentary pause as they watch the grass dance rhythmically against the wind, and the movements of the leaves on trees add up to the music of the birds. It was a peaceful scene. And Hope was going to regret asking as if to confirm what had been bothering his friend that morning.

"It was about your brothers again, isn't it?" Hope asked despondently.

Larsa leaned back against the bench and crossed his arms. "Yeah."

Hope sighed before turning to face his friend. "What is it about this time?"

Larsa hesitated. But he decided that he needed more than one person to talk about what was so upsetting the night before or else his mind would burst out of madness. He closed his eyes reflectively under his furrowed eyebrows and took his time before finally talking. "They were fighting again, in the study, obviously. I didn't stay to listen anymore, especially after I saw Tifa escaped out of the room and out of breath. They're fighting about my dad's shortcomings again, and I'm simply sick and tired of hearing the same things. I mean," he shook his head before narrowing his eyes on Hope. "it was all done! I know his past actions when he was still alive affected how we are now, but instead of wasting time arguing over the works of a dead man, they should be thinking over about what to do next for the empire to survive! I mean…" he sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead.

The silver haired friend gave him a sympathetic look, as he watched his friend in his troubled thoughts, as if watching how he would be like once he becomes the emperor.

"I know, Larsa…" Hope patted the young prince's back gently. Wasn't he too young to think about such serious things?

"I know…" he said again anyway.

* * *

"Rinoa!" A faint voice from the other side of the door called annoyingly, followed by three heavy knocks. At least that was how they were to a resting teacher who was halfway to sleep.

She moaned against her arms and opened her brown orbs. It was only then she realized that her head was lazily resting on her desk. She glanced at the small, blue clock standing at the right corner of the surface. Endless stacks of papers were getting in the way of her view, and blocking the time's dial. It was way too impossible to tell the time at her position.

"Rinoa, what are you doing in there? You'll be late!"

She blinked her eyes tightly and pushed the papers aside recklessly before reaching for the clock. Reluctantly, she raised her head and finally took a good look at the time.

12:55. Lunch break would be over in five minutes, and her class would start by then.

"Coming, coming…" She murmured back to her living alarm.

"You'd better! Everyone already left!" And with those words, footsteps followed that slowly faded away from the door.

Rinoa sat up and hesitantly looked over her desk. It was in a complete and utter mess, and she knew it would be a pain in the neck the next time she would work on them later that day. But it was too early to think about that and she had to push the thought aside for now. She needed to concentrate on her next class. What they would be doing today was something she had spent a considerably long time to prepare for. Endless permissions from important departments, including the headmaster's, had to be done for this to be possible. After long weeks of waiting, her request for training in spellcasting was finally approved. Following that approach, she fixed the venue she planned to use for her class, cleared up some space and cleaned it with the help of the school's janitors. Although she was more than sure her students' magic was too young to be powerful, she still made an effort to put up some safety spells in every corner of the venue, just in case.

She was confident that it would be anything but disastrous. She made sure of that.

She collected her textbooks and study plan before finally standing up. She placed them on top of each other and held them in her arm. She reached for the door and was about to turn the knob when she caught a glance of herself at the mirror hanging on the adjacent wall. She paused on her tracks, looked at herself and stared. She smiled at her reflection.

"All right Ms. Heartilly." She sighed and told herself reassuringly. "Time to make some real magic lessons. This is the real thing. This is the real deal."

She reminded herself to appear professional and swallowed any sign of excitement in her. After taking a deep breath, she finally left with the smile still plastered on her face.

* * *

"The fire element is arguably the most powerful black magic." Rinoa said in her lecture. She was pacing back and forth on the ledge, her short, thin body almost like scanning the blackboard before the class. The board was filled with her handwritings in chalk of terms she expected her young black mages to remember. "Fire can destroy any solid thing. It is so destructible that everything it burns can never be retrieved. However, it can be terminated by two elements; wind and water. Much more so when these two elements are combined and they become ice. I'm sure all of you are familiar with the blizzard spell. Even then, heat can melt ice, thus making fire its equally deadly opponent."

Silently, the behaved students of the black magic class scribbled their notes down on their pads and notebooks, especially Hope who was trying his best to catch up. Larsa, on the other hand, was copying Hope's extra notes, those that were not written on the blackboard, but was mentioned by the teacher.

Rinoa suddenly stopped talking and waited until she was almost sure that her students were ready. She stepped down from the ledge and walked to the door then smiled to the children. "Okay class, if you're ready please form a line outside. We will have our basic magic exercise from what we have learned today."

One by one, the young students stood up from their chairs and headed outside, forming a single, but zigzagged line. Some took their notebooks with them, while the more confident ones chose to go empty-handed. Larsa quickly wrote down the last bits of the notes and kept his notebook inside his bag. Hope turned glanced at him with a questioning look.

"You're not bringing your notes. Why aren't you bringing your notes?" He asked.

Larsa stood up after zipping his bag close. "It's easy to remember everything Ms. Heartilly said, really. I mean, how can it be so hard?" he shrugged. "It's only basic magic."

His friend narrowed his eye thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose…" Hope replied while he shut his notebook and inserted it into his own bag. "If I forget something, though, I'm counting on you to help me."

Larsa chuckled almost boastfully. "Of course. That's not exactly a hard request."

"Hope, Larsa." Rinoa called at the two softly.

Larsa turned around in response, while Hope quickly began to walk towards the door.

"Coming, coming…" the young prince muttered as he slowly followed his friend outside.

* * *

Rinoa glanced at the so-called line behind her for the tenth time to reassure herself that her class was following her. They passed through two corridors of classrooms until they finally reached an open area that lead to the exit of the building and into a fenced court. The teacher looked around briefly and decided that the place was indeed perfect enough to practice magic. Well, the maintenance supervisor did already tell her the same thing the day before, and it was only now that she would get the chance to prove him right.

Finally, after ten minutes of travelling to the place, she stopped on her tracks, and the rest of the class followed suit. She turned around to face her students and quickly counted heads. When she was done, she sighed and smiled at them. "Well, here we are. This is where we will be practicing our magic skills from this day forth. If you want to practice outside our class, you can do it here for as long as there is no one around. Is that clear?"

"Yes Ms. Heartilly." A quarter of the class replied in unison.

Rinoa nodded. "Good. Now, I want all of you to find a partner."

And her command made the line fall into shambles, as classmate after classmate searched for a teammate. While everyone else was in chaos, Hope and Larsa were already separated from the group by their obvious understanding to be the pair.

When everyone appeared to be done with the search, Rinoa began to speak. "We are going to practice the spells water and thunder first. I know this might be your first time, as informed by your previous teacher Ms. Tilmit, but this will help give you an idea how these two element clash one another. I believe I already taught you how to cast both spells, so that wouldn't be much of a problem. The other one can cast the thunder spell, while the other will cast water. After a single try, you and your partner will have to switch spells. Is that clear?"

Nobody replied this time, but most of the class nodded in agreement.

"Okay, good." The teacher nodded. "Also, don't cast the spell on your partner, nor to anyone. Spells can hurt people. Make sure to perform it on the ground in between you and your partner, so keep a three feet distance in between."

By this time, the students were already in their positions. Hope and Larsa included, as they listened attentively, as Hope was still calculating the distance between him and Larsa.

"Maybe adding another foot won't hurt." Hope remarks while his gaze was still on the ground between him and Larsa.

"Isn't that too much? Most of time, these spells aren't all that powerful to require such distance." Larsa replied.

"Just saying." Hope said as he finally looked up. "I mean, who knows what might actually happen. This is the real thing!"

"Relax Hope, I assure you, nothing bad with happen." Larsa responded as he stepped his right foot backwards and lifted his hands to his waist, practicing the stance taught by their teacher earlier. "After all, it was Ms. Heartilly who clearly stated how far we should be from each other. She won't tell us to do something that is far from our safety. And she's here with us too."

"On the count of three, all of you can start." The teacher said. She looked around one last time, to make sure everyone was ready, and started counting. And when she reached "1", the sounds of splash, thunder and "sorrys" began to echo all over the place. As the spellcastings unfolded, the teacher was observing from a safe distance. She knew they would be fine. The spells she taught them were not as harmful as the more advanced ones she was aware of. After all, the place was filled with shell spell that ensured the safety of the students within the area.

With his arms still stretched out in a stance, Hope looked around. As his green, anxious eyes scanned the place and observed his classmates amidst the splashes and flashes of light, he suddenly felt his heart drop down his stomach. It was his first time to do something like this, and it was probably the most dangerous thing he would ever do in his lifetime. _Now that's silly, _he thought. They didn't come here unsupervised in the first place. Besides, he trusted his partner, slash, his best friend, and he especially trusted his teacher. But was he really cut out for an exercise like this?

"Okay Hope," Larsa, who was less nervous, called out to his partner. "We're the only ones left. We should start now. You ready?"

Hope swore he could see Larsa's hands shaking. Nevertheless, he nodded.

"Yeah." He bended his knees in position. "Ready."

Larsa took a long, deep breath. "Okay, at a count of three. One.."

"Two…"

"Three!" And with a wave of his arms, he released a small splash of water from the ground.

Hope, catching up with his partner's pace, quickly waved an arm, slightly stomping his foot backward on the ground, prompting a single lightning to emerge from the sky and struck the water spell.

"Ack!" Hope uttered in thwart. "Too much!"

"N-no, that was good." Larsa, who was now standing a few meters farther from Hope, shook his head in disagreement. The impact of the spell was a little more powerful than he expected it to be, that it pierced the ground slightly and leaving a small, smoky black mark. He looked around to observe if the rest of the class was casting the same amount of thunder Hope did, realizing that theirs barely even produced sparks.

"Maybe I should exert a bit more effort on the water spell to match yours." Larsa said, walking slowly and slightly cautiously back closer to Hope.

"No, I'll try to control it this time." Hope assured his friend. "Don't worry. I know and I'm very well aware how much trouble I'll get myself into when I unintentionally hurt royalty."

Larsa smirked. "Hey now, don't be like that." He positioned himself again in a stance. "Okay, let's try it again."

Hope followed suit. "At a count of three."

Larsa nodded. "One.." His restrained his fists from tightening into a nervous clench.

"Two…"

* * *

Rinoa jumped at the sound of a loud crack of thunder, and gasped. She turned around to look at the prince and his partner, seeing that the two were lying on their backs while a huge, black mark stained a spot on the floor in between them. In complete shock, she stared at the mark on the ground for a short moment as she took her time to absorb what just happened. No words came into her head, nor any actions that she should be partaking as the pair's teacher. She even forgot being responsible for anything that should happen in her class, especially when a lightning _almost_ struck her two students. Or maybe that was exactly why she suddenly became dumfounded at the moment.

The only thought that ran through her head was the thought of trouble and danger.

And as soon as she became aware of both, she shook her head and snapped back to reality. She finally glanced at the two.

They already found their way up on their feet, acting normally as if nothing serious had just happened. And they were on their spellcasting stance… again?

"Hope! Larsa!" She called, as she felt herself hastily running towards the two.

Larsa swung his left arm from his other side towards Hope.

"Stop!" she cried.

Hope threw an arm down from above him.

"Don't-"

Her arm was reaching forward as she ran to the pair. And suddenly, there was a flash of light- so bright it almost blinded Rinoa's eyes even after she shielded them with her arms. And it came with a force so powerful and electrifying, it threw her back a few good meters away from the two. She fell on her back and grunted at the stinging pain; both from the fall and the electrocuting sensation the thunder spell so generously gave out.

When it was all done, the light died out as fast as it came, revealing a much larger burnt black spot on the ground. Rinoa gasped and immediately stood up to check on her students. They too were thrown on their backs, but thankfully unharmed.

Just when she was about to turn her head to scan the other side of the place, a horrible thought struck her and she paused halfway.

She had not checked Hope, or the prince yet.

If something happened to the two, she would not only be facing accusations for failing as the teacher, but she would have to deal with Hope's family and Larsa's. And she could not afford those, especially the latter. Suddenly, she felt her neck tighten, as if she was being strangled to death with a rope. Then an image of being guillotined occurred to her, like the execution done to criminals centuries before, as a punishment for great treason that should not have happened.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stopped herself from shaking. Immediately after, she carefully opened them and slowly turned around to see the two—because their lives and hers depend on it.

* * *

"Argh…" Hope groaned as he reached to touch his aching temple. His thoughts were blurred, almost fazed, and he forgot that his eyes were still closed. He felt awfully lightheaded, and he was beginning to wonder if he had left the living world for the Farplane far too soon. He opened his green orbs, expecting a cozy smoke that would engulf him, and angels welcoming him to paradise.

But there was nothing— nothing but the same scenery of the training grounds for spellcasting their Magic teacher brought them to for practical exercises.

Well, thank Hyne he was still alive.

He finally decided to look around and see what happened before he fell down on the ground and almost hit his head. He sat up, immediately clutching his head from the sharp pain that shot him, and looked around as soon as the pain died down. All had left their sparring spots and grouped themselves together at the far end of the place; some running in what seemed like in panic, while some were still on their way up from the ground. Either way, they were all evidently wearing a combination of scared and nervous expressions on their faces.

"Wha..?" Hope mumbled.

He looked around to see what caused the commotion and saw nothing but a huge smoke-black stain on the ground, about a hundred times larger than what he had previously produced from his first cast of thunder spell.

Hope's eyes widened. "Oh snap…" Quickly, he stood up and looked around again.

"Larsa!" He called out. "Larsa! Where are you!"

"You're stepping on my shirt." Someone below him repsponded.

Hope looked down and relief washed him. "Oh!" He replied. "You're alright!" he reached his hands down for Larsa.

"Of course I'm alright." The prince smirked as he took Hope's hand and lifted himself up. He brushed dirt off himself and looked down again on his previous spot. "I remember being there right across you before you struck the spell. I wonder how I got here right next to you."

"More importantly," Hope said while staring at the huge burnt mark. "did I do that?"

"Hope! Larsa!" The voice of their teacher cried out to them. The two turned around to look at her before she threw her arms and embraced them both. "You're okay! Thank Hyne you two are okay!"

Hope smiled. "Ms. Heartilly, of course we're—"

Rinoa pulled away and scanned the two with her worried brown eyes. "Are you hurt? Were you two hurt? Anywhere?"

"Ma'am, there's absolutely nothing to worry about." Larsa assured her sternly.

"Are you sure?" She asked again. "I know how to cure anything, just tell me what's wrong!"

"There's nothing wrong, Miss Heartilly. We're both fine!" Hope reassured with a chuckle.

"Okay." Their teacher finally nodded. "Okay. Good. I want you two to join the rest of the class, okay?" She looked at the two intently with her frightened eyes. Hope's face softened as a comforting smile grew on his face.

"Ms. Heartilly, I'm sure you didn't mean this to happen. And neither of us were hurt so, stop worrying now. Okay?" Larsa calmly reasserted.

Rinoa only shook her head. "No Your Highness, you don't understand. This is a very big responsibility for me as your teacher. If anything happened to you two, I'll be in a lot of trouble. More than that, I'm just really glad you two are okay." She said finally with a smile.

Larsa was about to say more when he felt Hope's hand tug his. He turned to look at his friend, who gave him a small nod. "C'mon Larsa. Let's join the others."

Larsa gave Rinoa one last glance before turning back to his friend and nodded. "Okay."

Rinoa nodded back at her student and faced the rest of the class. "Everyone, class is dismissed!" she called out before turning back to the huge black spot on the ground. She was examining the whole mark while walking around it.

Some threw last curious looks before leaving the place, while some started mumbling about what just happened, where they were when it happened, and if they felt the force of the spell.

"That was one spell alright." One said.

_One really strong spell_. Rinoa thought.

"It's like a combination of… I dunno, flare and thunder." Another one remarked.

_No child can cast a spell like this one._

"I know right! I mean, was that even a spell? It's too powerful for a spell!"

_It must be more powerful than a Thundaga. But what kind of thunder spell can be even more powerful than Thundaga?_

Rinoa removed her eyes from the spot and gazed at the empty space before her. What if this issue gets out of hands? What if Hope's spell starts more panic among her students? Among the administration? In the whole school? Had she not started the exercise in the first place, she would not even have to worry about a single crisis. But every single problem has a solution. Well, in this case, there might be no solution to clear things up, but she had to do something while she still could.

Her eyes fell down and her hands were clutched on her sides. She turned around and called out.

"Hope, can you come over here for a moment?"

* * *

The clock was ticking, his palms were sweating, and his heart was pumping madly against his chest. The silence was making his uneasy, and the faint voices of his foster mother and Ms. Heartilly at the other side of the door of the teacher's office were killing him.

When his teacher called out his name and asked him to come over earlier that day, he swore he felt his heart stop for a moment. She then told him that she needed a word with his parents or a guardian after school hours. Though she assured him that it wouldn't be too bad and he wasn't in big trouble, her words did not help. Hope gulped nervously before telling his teacher that only his foster mother could make it to school.

Hope somehow knew he would be in trouble for doing too much of the thunder spell, but he never expected it to be as bad as being asked to call his stepmother to have a talk with his teacher on the same day. He was just summoned at the Headmaster's office the day before, and now he was sitting on a couch outside the teacher's office because it was Serah's turn to talk to a teacher.

* * *

Serah entered the room, wearing a worried expression that she tried to hide from Hope before she left him on the couch outside. She told him it would be all right and she would take care of everything. Despite getting Hope's nod, she knew he was just as nervous is she was.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Villiers." Ms. Heartilly greeted in a light voice as she nodded at Serah, who greeted and nodded back. She then gave Hope a nod and a smile before closing the door behind Serah. Then they proceeded to her table.

"Please, have a seat." The teacher courteously said, waving at a chair in front of her desk. Serah followed after Ms. Heartilly sat down right across her.

"So, uhm, Ms. Heartilly…" Serah started.

Ms. Heartilly smiled. "Just Rinoa, please."

Serah smiled back and nodded. "Okay, Rinoa." She looked back up at Rinoa with her sincere blue eyes. "Is my Hope in trouble?"

Rinoa shook her head in reply. "No. He's not in trouble, Mrs. Villiers."

"You can call me Serah." Serah replied.

"Okay, Serah." Rinoa nodded. "Hope is not in trouble. Actually, it's not his conduct that I wanted to talk about with you. He's doing very well with his behavior, and we never had any problems with him. However…"

Rinoa gave Serah an intent look, not knowing how to begin, knowing it could be partly her fault.

"However, when we had our class earlier this day, I arranged a training session with my class to practice their abilities on casting spells. I put around spells that would ensure the safety of my students from the spells, and as far as I knew, they worked. My spells controlled the thunder and water spells the students cast, preventing both spells to touch anything but the air. However, when it was Hope's turn to cast his thunder spell, his was able to bypass my spells and was able to call forth a perfect thunder spell."

Serah's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Rinoa shifted on her chair. "When hope cast the spell, a lightning came out of nowhere and struck the ground, throwing him and his partner back, when my spells should've stopped something like it from happening."

Serah only blinked in reply. "Sorry, I'm not following you."

Rinoa sighed and began to explain again. "You see Serah, my spells always work. It worked well with my students, and it worked with me when I tested it prior to the training. When Hope's spell was able to get through it, it was either I forgot to cast the spell, which I did not, or Hope's thunder spell was very powerful."

Serah paused before slightly nodding. "Oh…"

"Serah, are you familiar with the levels of thunder spells?" Rinoa asked, leaning a bit closer to Hope's mother.

Serah nodded. "Yes, I've heard of them from my sister."

"There are Thunder, then Thundara, and then the strongest, Thundaga." Rinoa identified each with her fingers. "My spells can stop even a spell twice as powerful as a Thundaga spell. But when Hope cast his first Thunder spell, I had no doubt it was even more powerful than the most powerful Thundaga spell known. His is…" Rinoa thought while slightly shaking her head. "About ten times more powerful than Thundaga."

Serah's eyes widened.

"And then the next time he cast another—"

"There was a second time?" Serah asked in surprise.

Rinoa nodded. "He wanted to try it again, to give it more control this time. And when he did, it came out in an even more powerful form. His second Thunder spell was about a hundred times more powerful than his previous spell."

Serah's heart fell at the pit of nothingness. She only gave Rinoa a frozen, shocked stare at what she said.

"I know it's hard to take in. I was shocked too. No one, not even the most powerful masters of magic, can call forth a spell like what Hope did." Rinoa shifted again on her seat. "I… hope you don't mind me asking, but, does Hope have ancestors who were powerful mages?"

Serah shook her head. "I don't know. My husband and I don't even know who his real parents are. My husband only found him from two women when he was only seven. We know nothing of his background."

Rinoa nodded and leaned back. "All right. I… understand."

Serah nodded apologetically. "I'm so sorry about what happened to your class. I know you didn't mean a single thing that happened this afternoon."

Rinoa smiled bashfully and shook her head. "Oh, please, none of that. I'm sorry for expecting too little trouble and not doing enough about it. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Serah smiled. "My husband and I will talk about what you just told me. You can count on that. But please help Hope cope up with his powers."

Rinoa nodded. "I am planning to help him teach how to control his powers. It will help him, too."

Serah nodded back. "Thank you so much!"

* * *

"I told you Hope," Serah said while she was walking with her foster son on their way to the exit of the school building. "you're not in trouble. Your teacher only discussed with me how you did with your thunder spell. Turned out you're pretty good at it!" She said with a comforting smile.

Hope's sullen face lit up a small notch and looked at Serah. "Really?"

Serah nodded. "Actually, it was so good she thought it was too advanced for you. She thought it would be great if you have better control of it."

Hope's eyes fell down to his hands. "Yeah. I always did too much with my thunder spell. I didn't mean to though! But I don't know how to make it a bit smaller."

Serah smiled. "That's why she's going to give you some extra lessons to teach you how to control it. She's going to help you."

Hope smiled. "Oh. Well, that's good to know, at least." His eyes turned up to Serah. "You know, Ms. Heartilly is a really nice lady. She always looks after everyone, and she always cares about us. She doesn't even mind if the whole class is noisy, or doing something else while she's teaching, and she'll even help us catch up when we miss something. And when we get ourselves into trouble, she's help us out. She's like a big sister to us."

Serah nodded. "I know she's a really nice person. She wouldn't even bother talking to me in the first place if she doesn't want to help you out."

"Really? You think so?"

"Oh, I know so." Serah reassured with a smile.

* * *

The school's rooftop was a perfect place to see everything else below. Oh yes, a perfect view indeed of everything down below.

She had been watching with her blue eyes through her sharp, rectangular glasses, waiting and anticipating her subject. He should be coming out of the building soon.

And alas, there he was, talking to a young woman with a long, curly hair all tied at the side of her head. She was smiling at him, and he was returning it. She did her homework and she knew who she was; Serah Villiers, the boy's stepmother. They both lived with her husband in a small house located among the small streets of Palompolum. She was young at eighteen when she married her twenty-one year-old husband Snow Villiers.

Their foster son, Hope Villiers, was only fourteen, turning fifteen soon. And he just discovered that he could cast a powerful spell.

She smirked, twirled her back on the scene and flipped her long, wavy blonde hair. She jumped from the roof, to a tree, and then to another, disappearing completely from her spot.

The time is near.

* * *

Hope opened the front door and came in first. "Snow! We're home!"

Serah followed in. "Snow, are you in here?"

"Hey guys!" Snow called out from the kitchen. "We're in here!"

Serah blinked and smiled curiously. "We have a visitor?"

Suddenly, a man that closely resembled Snow with a shorter and smaller built, emerged from the kitchen while holding a tray of muffins. He smiled widely at the two. "Muffins for my cupcakes?"

Serah's smile grew wider. "Hey Seifer!"

Hope laughed. "Seifer!" He ran to him trapped him in a tight embrace. "Been long!"

"Hey, no touching! Let go!" Seifer berated. "You'll ruin my muffins!"

Serah giggled before entering the kitchen to greet her husband. "Hey Snow."

Snow, who was washing the dishes, turned around to face his wife. "Hey." He left his place, walked right up to Serah, gave her a hug and kissed her.

They could still hear Seifer and Hope's banters outside the room, yet Snow didn't let go of her and started to talk against their lips. "How did it go?"

Serah nodded. "Good. It all went good. Hope did better than the teacher had expected."

Snow smiled. "That's my boy."

Serah smiled and kissed him again, which he willfully responded to.

Seifer's sudden gasp echoed in the kitchen. He quickly covered Hope's eyes, while his mouth was still left open. "You two are disgusting! Get a room!"

Serah jumped against Snow and immediately pulled away from him. Snow did too before looking at his brother and chuckled.

Hope began waving his arms blindingly. "What? What's wrong? What's going on?"

Serah took a deep breath and composed herself before approaching Hope. "Nothing, nothing. We're going to the living room now and watch tv, okay?"

Seifer removed his hand from Hope, who blinked before looking up at Serah. He nodded. "Okay, but, what was that all about?"

Serah took his hand and pulled themselves out of the place. "One word; pizza!"

"Wow! Really? Pizza tonight?"

Seifer shook his head at his brother, who only shrugged before sitting down on a dining chair.

"After all these years, you still treat him like a baby." Seifer chided.

"Well, he still is a kid. And I promised I'll take care of him."

"You said you'd take care of him, not pamper him." Seifer retorted.

"Ah, they're the same to me." Snow replied cheerfully.

"In any case," Seifer began. "You still haven't changed your mind?"

Snow furrowed his brows and shook his head. "I'm happy where I am now Bro. I have my own family, my own life, my happiness… I will never exchange any of these for anything else."

"But being in the Order will give you even greater importance, and more adventures." Seifer replied, adding emphasis with the wave of his arm. "The Order is the most elite group that ensured the protection of the world since the time of Yevon's ancestors and ancestors, and is still doing its job now. And you know what, it needs you and wants you in."

"Yeah, I know that." Snow sighed. "But they already have you; the most skilled gunblade wielder of Balamb, rivaling the prince of Esthar himself. In my opinion, that's enough for the Order. You can just be my representative too."

"Hey man, no offense intended her or anything, but you do have your own resistance group, right? The group you so lovingly refer to as NORA? It only tells me that you too wanted adventures and you too long for peace and order and all that bullcrap." Seifer said, leaning closer on the table.

Snow only shook his head again. "NORA is a group my friends and I formed. It's not exactly a resistance group; it's a team of friends who will work together to see to it that everyone in the group will live prosperously and without regrets."

Seifer shrugged. "What difference does it make with the Order?"

"The Order demands for commitment."

Seifer frowned. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Well," Snow waved his hand. "NORA lets me prioritize my family."

Seifer paused at his brother's reply. Finally, he sighed deeply in defeat. "I guess that's true."

Snow nodded. "Yeah."

There was a long pause between the two brothers. While Seifer was still searching for words to rebut on his brother, Snow glanced at the clock and realized it was already past dinner time.

"Hey Seif, you staying for dinner?" He asked.

"Ah, not anymore. I should be on my way back to Esthar now." Seifer replied, after coming into terms with his defeat on his argument with Snow. He stood up and headed to the door. Snow followed him.

"You sure, Bro? Serah ordered pizza." Snow asked again.

"Yeah, I'm sure. His Royal Jerkness is probably waiting for me. I just had my ten times overtime lunchbreak."

"I'll say." Snow opened the door for his brother. "It's almost bedtime."

Seifer began to walk and stepped out of the door. He paused again and turned around to face Snow. "Anyway, I'd still want you to think about it. It'll make me feel loads better working with Prince Asshole with you there."

Snow chuckled. "Why won't you just quit, man?"

Seifer shrugged. "I have no life to turn back to."

Snow blinked and smiled. "Hey, enough with that already. You still got me here. At least visit us more often here. You still have a family waiting for you."

Seifer dismissed the statement with his hand. "Nah, I'll be fine on my own. I love my job anyway. I just don't take delight with the boss."

Snow smirked. "Well then, take care of yourself."

Seifer nodded. "Yeah, you too. And Serah and Hope."

Snow nodded and smiled at his brother as he was slowly pulling the door into a close.

Seifer was walking, a bit downhearted, for his visit was in vain. Or was it? At least he got to see his brother and the younger one, Hope. At least he-

The trees and the bushes beside the Villiers' lot began to make loud, rustling sounds against the darkness of the windless night.

Seifer and Snow were both alarmed by the sound and their eyes shifted from their path, to the suspicious movement among the trees.

"I'll be back, honey!" Snow called out to Serah before quickly turning around, closed the door, and ran to Seifer's side.

Seifer, who was already scanning the trees, unsheathed his gunblade and dashed into the trees.

"Tch!" Snow raised his fist, clenched them and ran after his brother.

The small forest was empty of any living thing; not even a small animal could be found in it. And it was exactly for that reason they suspected that someone was hiding in that place; someone who had no intentions of revealing him/herself for whatever sinister reason. Still, as wary as they ever are when possible danger was around, the two brothers searched the whole area together.

Then, at a glance, they saw a movement from their right, and a black shadow that followed. Snow and Seifer dashed after the thing, so closely following it that they saw how it outran them and left the area for good.

Snow stopped on his tracks and halted his hot-tempered brother from following whoever it was with his right arm.

"What are you doing?" Seifer hissed at him.

Snow's eyes narrowed. "If we follow him any further, we might never get back home."

Seifer paused, followed Snow's gazed, and realized that the culprit was heading towards the estate of Archadia's royal family. Had he followed further, the army will eat him alive for the family's security reasons. Either the culprit made a smart move, or the culprit came from the Archadian kingdom.


	4. And There Was Loss

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in this story that is not mine. Okay?

**Author's Note**: I have no excuse for updating so late, only that I felt disheartened for not receiving as much reviews as I would hope. BUT, as I had said before, I believe so much in this story that I must finish this because I know the ending will pay off. =)

Plus, some people had been very encouraging about this story. I received a few reviews recently for this story that I thought would be buried under the piles of new stories. But it would seem that some people still had the heart to read mine, so I would like to recognize _MonMonCandie, Cha-Leek _and_ Lazy Gaga. _I'm hoping that I am not too late, and I could still capture the hearts of many to read this story. But only time will tell. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. =)

* * *

"It will cause much casualties to invade Palompolum!" The Archadian Emperor roared with his fist slamming the mahogany table. "If you wish to reach Esthar, may this fight be only between their kingdom and ours!"

"Your Highness," came a nonchalant reply from a man in black robe. "it is inevitable to pass by Palompolum to get through Esthar." Relaxed on his soft chair, he shifted on his seat. "It won't _be _an invasion, it will be a formation of alliance with Palompolum. After all, we would need as much forces as we could get, and the technology they have, no matter how little they could be, will grant valuable aid to our advantage."

"Gabranth is right, my brother." Prince Vayne interrupted in response. "Forming an alliance will not hurt in rebuilding this empire. And we may also regain our union with Rabanastre."

The Emperor narrowed his eyes. " If we regain this alliance with Rabanastre, we will wage war against Dalmasca. How many more times must I tell you this?"

"If I may interrupt," Another man in robes, but this time, donning a light brown color that matched his hair, intervened with his finger pointing up. "Why won't we make peace treaties with the kingdoms instead, rather than forcing them to be friends with us." He stood up. "I would suggest that we could create a friendly image to these kingdoms, and let them approach us."

The other judge called Gabranth laughed disbelievingly. "Are you suggesting that we must wait in idle until they deliberately form an alliance with us, regardless if they would or not?"

"Well, they will not certainly welcome us with open arms if we forcefully do it now, would it?"

"Intimidation might be a good key to ensure the security of this empire."

"And intimidation will be a big step towards hostilility."

"Balthier," Prince Vayne cut off between the contending judges. "you may be right about your talks of peace, but I don't think Dalmasca will take us too lightly either way." He concluded with a chuckle.

"My brother, all you care about is invading Dalmasca to get your revenge." The Emperor said in a disheartened voice as he surrendered to his chair.

Balthier bowed to his rulers and returned to his own seat, a meter away from Gabranth's. He wasn't looking to his fellow judge, but he could feel his gray eyes stabbing him. It has always been like this, each of them, standing on opposite sides, arguing until the royal brothers would halt them. But this conflict of insights for the kingdom was not his primary concern about Gabranth. It was his underlying cruel nature to get what he had wanted. Balthier would always try to avoid his eyes unless needed or argument had called for it. He could read wrath, anger, and deception in his eyes. He knew, one way or another, Gabranth could potentially bring forth danger into the kingdom.

But he would fall into his cruel web of plans. Balthier considered himself lucky for being one of Archadia's royal judges; he had the freedom to impose plans and declare his opinions that his rulers may consider. But never did he have as much power and approval as Gabranth had.

When the Emperor has grown tired of the meeting, the session was finished. Balthier rose from his seat and was walking his way to the door when he felt a hand clasped his shoulder. He instantly knew, without a doubt, that it was Gabranth.

"Thank you for butting in, my friend. I must say that your proposal was the most nobel and admirable." Gabranth said in a twisted manner.

Balthier moved his head to Gabranth's side, avoiding facing him. "Thank you, and I apologize for misunderstanding your, well, how should I put this… eagerness to take over Esthar. Now that's what I could call the greatest attempted massacre of Archadian citizens of the century."

He felt Gabranth's grip grow tighter, and he winced. "I would advise you to stay out of my way." He hissed before letting Balthier go. He glided away to the corridor, leaving Balthier standing alone in the room. He massaged his shoulder and shook his head.

"Gabranth," He whispered to himself. "What are you up to?"

* * *

If there was anything Serah Villiers was particularly good about being a wife, it was her keen instincts as a wife.

She had been noticing how her husband had been preoccupied about something the moment he came back into the house after his brother left, even when he tried to hide it from his family. He would smile at the right moments, and laughed while he teased Hope about how much trouble he made at school earlier. But when dinner came, while everyone else was eating, he would glance out the window into the dark woods every minute until its frequency became seldom, and then he finally stopped looking. Serah asked if he was expecting another guest in which he only shook his head and said he was only thinking about something. And his wife would reckon how deep that something must be to keep her husband distracted over dinner. She would not like to overthink, and decided to leave it alone if Snow's privacy and space called for it. For as long as nothing important was at stake.

And when they went to bed, everything was forgotten. Of course, except for one thing.

In the morning, after Hope finished the breakfast Serah prepared for him and left for school, Serah sat down across Snow. Her husband was gobbling on his banana caramel waffles and chocolate milk when he noticed Serah looking intently at him. He gulped down his milk before looking back at Serah. "Yes Honey?"

"Well," Serah started. "it's about Hope."

Snow paused. He wiped his mouth and leaned closer. "What about him?"

"His teacher for Magic, Ms. Heartilly, talked to me yesterday, right?"

Snow nodded.

"Apparently, Hope could cast a spell a hundred times stronger than a Thundaga."

Snow blinked, not knowing what to say. "Hmm"

"She was planning to do what she can to help Hope with his power, but still…" She looked down on her hands. "I'm a bit worried. She said that his magic surpasses the power of even the most powerful mages in the history. How could that be possible?"

Snow crossed his arms. "Actually, if I were Hope, I'd be relieved to know that I could defend myself well against anything. That's not just a powerful spell, if it really was a hundred times stronger than a Thundaga. Hope IS gifted. But…"

"But…" Serah continued for him, her fingers uneasy. "But he could be too young to contain all that power to himself."

"Or some sick people might want to keep it all for themselves. I don't know which is worse." Snow diverted his eyes, thinking about the incident the night before. Was it just a coincidence that someone could be spying on his family on the same day Hope discovered he could cast a powerful Thundaga? Did someone know what their Hope was capable of?

"Snow," Serah called. "where did Hope come from? Who are his parents? His real family?"

Snow shook his head. "Beats me. I've been trying to figure it out myself for a long time now. But all I have is the pair of women who handed me Hope fourteen years ago. I don't even know who they are. I don't even know how to find them. They disappeared before I could even ask."

"They might be the only ones that could tell us about Hope's family." Serah replied. "And probably the only ones who could tell us how to help Hope."

"I wouldn't know much about that, either way." Snow leaned back on his chair. "All I know is, Hope is with us. And I would do everything in my power to help him, whatever happens. He's in our family now, a part of what is important to me… to you."

Serah nodded. "I guess you're right."

* * *

The last minute of their second subject for that morning was drawing near, yet there still was no sign of Larsa coming to school. Hope would glance over his friend's seat and the door repeatedly to check if Larsa finally decided to arrive. Did something happen in his castle again? Was he avoiding him under his brothers' orders because of the potentially dangerous magic he had demonstrated the day before? Was he all right?

Even Rinoa was worried about the young Prince. She felt ineffectual as a teacher for working unsatisfactorily to her students, and Larsa's absence only made her guilt sink deeper. She feared that the Emperor might have sought the need to distant his youngest brother from school until he had found a safer and more appropriate alternative for Larsa. Even then, down as her performance may seem, she carried on for the rest of the class.

When the bell rang, her students began packing their bags to move on for their next class. She caught on Hope and called his name. Hope turned to his teacher in response, who beckoned him to come closer. And he did whilst carrying his bag on his back.

Rinoa looked at him and smiled. "Hope, as I had promised your Mom, I will have to give you extra lessons to control your magic." She shifted on her seat. "I was hoping I could help you with it so you'll have better control of your Thundaga next time." She paused. "Or other spells for that matter."

Hope nodded. "Okay."

Rinoa nodded back. "The extra lessons will be held at the open lawn near the astrodome. I'll meet you there after class, okay?"

Hope nodded again. "Yes Ms. Heartilly."

"Okay. Off to your next class."

The young student smiled and nodded one more time before turning around and walking out of the room. Serah was right, he wasn't in trouble, at all. In fact, she was absolutely right was she said Ms. Heartilly only wanted to help him, which was why she talked to his stepmother. And everything will be all right, he was sure of it.

* * *

… or not.

Rinoa was hysterically throwing out spells to put out the fire everywhere the second Hope attempted to cast the Fire spell. The area where they decided to practice was blazing, and ready to melt the barrier spell Rinoa put up to limit the domain of Hope's magic. In an act of desperation to help his teacher, Hope cast Water, which did take out the flames, but soon flooded the invisible dome. Whilst floating, both the student and the teacher were in a state of shock when they found themselves safe from the fire, and surrounded only by harmless water. Rinoa even let out a laugh of relief, and Hope did too. But the barrier have weakened from the previous spell, and not long after, it eventually broke and gave in, spilling water on the lawn, and dropping both Rinoa and Hope to the soft ground.

Rinoa immediately stood up and run to Hope's side. "Are you all right?"

Hope sat up with his arms supporting himself from his sides. He nodded. "Yes Ms. Heartilly. You?"

Rinoa nodded. "Yeah." She gestured for Hope's hand and as soon as he reached for her, she grabbed him and pull him up.

She took a deep breath. "Well, at least I know you have a quick sense of action." She said as she smiled at her student.

Hope blushed. "Uhm, I guess. But I still don't know how to control my magic."

Rinoa shook her head. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out, right?" She then looked at her soaking self and then Hope. She sighed. "We're both wet. Do you think you can still practice?"

Hope, determined, nodded eagerly. "Yes, I'd still want to practice."

"Okay, but this one last time." Once more, she went around the burnt area and built another barrier. But this time, she did so thrice to make sure it would be three times just as durable as the last one.

At last, Rinoa was pleased. "Now, we'll try this again. Close your eyes…"

Hope did as he was told.

"And I want you to take your time to breathe in and exhale. Calm yourself down, the calmest that you can. You are the master of your own power, not the other way around…"

Hope felt himself relaxed a little in Rinoa's voice, keeping his eyes closed, but not too tightly.

"You want your magic as powerful as you wanted it to be. You have the capability to guide it as you wish; to be powerful, or to be weak. But for this moment, just for this moment, you wish it to be weaker.."

Hope clenched his fist, trying as he could to have control over his magic.

"Hope," his teacher called gently. "relax. It does not need forced to be controlled. It needs your guidance."

The student inhaled deeply and exhaled as he relaxed his fist. And slowly, he felt his hand opening by itself.

Suddenly, Rinoa gasped, and clasped her hands together. "Hope!"

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes! Look at your fire! It's smaller!"

"Wha…" Hope opened his eyes. He looked at his hand, and there it was: a small ball of flame burning on top his palm.

"You did it!" Rinoa cried excitedly.

"Wow, I really did it!" Hope exclaimed. He turned to Rinoa and looked back at his fire. Hope really rose up within him, and he felt the kind of achievement as if he could do anything. Of course, if he could control his insanely powerful spell for the second try, what can't he do?

The only things missing at the moment was Larsa. If only he could be there with him, to share that victorious moment. To prove to him that he was not all that dangerous.

* * *

But that was not the reason Larsa did not make it to school that day. Not at all.

Larsa was preparing for school in his room that same morning. He just finished a book he had been reading and he couldn't wait to lend it to his best friend. He firmly believed that it was a good read, and even when Hope was not as enthusiastic about the genre, he knew he would like it.

While he was fixing the collar of his uniform, his sister entered his room.

"Good morning Tifa." He greeted.

Tifa nodded. "Good morning. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, just one more minute." He scampered to his large wardrobe and took a pair of socks.

Tifa scanned his bed. "Honestly, when was the last time you fixed your own bed?" She said while she arranged the pillows on their rightful positions and flattened the comforter neatly. It was not how the royal servants would usually groom their beds, but at least it looked nicer.

"The servants can do it for me. And honestly, I will end up messing it about tonight anyway." Larsa called in reply.

Suddenly, someone burst through the door. He was taking a series of deep breaths, his eyes transfixed at the princess.

Tifa froze on her spot at the sense of the intruder's urgency while Larsa went out of his wardrobe to face the man.

The princess paused what she was doing. "Balthier," she said, recognizing the man. "what is it?"

Balthier's eyes gave up and looked down, unable to look directly at the princess and her brother as he would tell them the news. "The Emperor." He said finally. He looked up to confirm his straightforwardness. "He has gone."

Larsa looked at him in disbelief. "What?"

Tifa dropped on the bed, her hand clasping her mouth in shock. She shook her head.

Then, without waiting for the judge's answer, Larsa dashed out of his room, ignoring the calls of Balthier and his sister. If what Balthier said was true, he had a hunch where his brother could be. He headed straight to the study where his brother spent most of his time, and true enough, he saw a significant number of people gathering outside the room. He fought his way inside, despite being halted by most of the people there, especially by his older brother Vayne. But it was all too late. He already saw him.

The emperor's body was lying on the ground, just behind the table where he used to gather his documents. His lifeless body was drenched in his own blood, which seemed to have spurted out of his throat. There were several handprints on his table, a sign that there was a struggle… that he struggled. The bloodied stains on his carpet had turned brick red, bearing the lengthy time his body waited until it was seen by a female helper. In his right hand was a dagger with a golden hilt where he was clutching it, covered with his own blood.

A suicide.

Behind him, he heard his sister scream in misery, which was drowned in his own shock. Slowly, he felt himself weakening until he could no longer struggle from his brother's attempt to pull him out of the scene. And then, everyone started disappearing in the darkness while his legs gave in. And then, nothing.

* * *

Vayne, now the new Archadian emperor, proposed that the news of his brother's death must not be revealed until the right time, fearing that they might come unprepared to the criticisms from the other nations. It must remain within the palace walls until he declares the news himself. But news traveled faster than he had hoped and that afternoon, it was officially announced throughout Palompolum.

Rinoa was on her way home from the academy when the headlines appeared from the street's televisions. Much like the other people around her, she stopped on her tracks and took her time to watch the news of the Archadian Emperor's death.

Hope was watching the newscast with Snow and Serah inside the living room, all of whom paused from their activities while they watched. The program did not show any images of the graphic scene, though the reporter stated precise accounts of the story, including the time when the body was discovered. It was only then when Hope realized why Larsa had not come to school.

Located a thousand of miles away from Archadia, in an empire called Esthar, another viewer was watching. Seifer was sitting on a table inside a fast food place, looking at the television protruded high on the wall where the same newsflash was being shown, featuring a female reporter.

"**The late Emperor was seen clutching a dagger when he was discovered lying behind his desk inside the study room. It was declared by the palace itself that he had commited suicide the night before.**"

Seifer sneered. "Suicide. Right." He turned away from the television and to the roast beef sandwich in his hands. "Suicide my ass."

"Our informant doesn't think so either." Said another man who was suddenly sitting beside him. Though he appeared short, he had a muscular body which appeared almost intimidating. His skin was pale, highlighted by his choice of black clothes and donning a pair of motorcycling goggles that matched his get-up, which covered his sky blue eyes. But that was not the most noticeable thing about him. His fairly short, golden yellow hair was spiked in all directions, which defy the rule of gravity itself. It moved just as softly with his movements, but never dropping from its style.

Seifer scoffed the man off. "Cloud." He recognized. "I didn't notice you. Since when did you get here?"

"Not long." Replied the man.

"Right." Seifer chuckled. He signaled at the clerk behind the counter. "Hey! Burger guy!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Give my friend here one of the biggest burgers you have!"

"No thanks," Cloud replied. "I haven't brought any money."

Seifer frowned. "Hmm. Nevermind then." Because he wasn't going to pay for his friend anyway.

"You better finish fast. Break's almost over." Cloud said nonchalantly.

"Well then," Seifer, still holding his burger, stood up. "might as well just bring this over. And if puberty boy says anything about it, I'll ram this down his throat."

His companion did not say anything and simply followed him. They headed out of the place, which was merely three blocks away from their destination, where the Prince of Esthar was waiting.

Inside the headquarters, the said Prince was sitting on a couch inside a minimalist room, watching the same newcast from right across his position. His was a tall, muscular man, too tall for his young age. His short brown hair was a bit shaggy in form, and he had a noticeable scar right in between his eyes. He was wearing a pair of brown leather panths, and a plain white t-shirt that fitted his contour quite perfectly. He was resting his head on his hands, while his blue eyes were fastened on the screen. The only time he broke his concentration was when his communicator beeped in his pocket. He reached for it and read the message.

"Cloud's friend doesn't seem to believe it." A woman behind him said in a perceptive voice. She had long, curly pink hair carefully gathered over her shoulder, while her bangs covered some parts of her face. She was muscular for a woman's stature, wearing a female soldier's uniform. Her eyes were piercing blue, but still had the subtle soft feminine shape. "It was plotted from the very beginning. A race for the throne's authority."

"As I would think so as well." He replied. He stood up from his couch and looked over his shoulder. "Round up the Order."


End file.
